A Change Of Seasons

That summer
the winds took everything away,
every leaf plucked free like untethered goose down,
tumbleweed rolling across the highway like bony gymnasts,
pine cones clattering off windshields, though,
as I say, it was summer.
And then the sleet and hail came,
hail the size of hacky sacks and stone-hard,
breaking windows and denting doors, cars, the city center statue of Robert E. Lee.
We said our prayers.
We talked of Armageddon.
When fall finally arrived
the world regrew
like a time lapse fast-forwarded:
We said our prayers.
We watched Mother’s boyfriend drive off in a
white-finned ’63 Caddy convertible,
taking everything he wanted with him,
the front seat empty yet loaded.
We watched the taillights wink away.
We watched for any sign of return.
We watched the street
for the rest of that fall
and into the winter.

Len Kuntz is an writer from Washington State and the author of the story collection, The Dark Sunshine, from Connotation Press. Additionally, he’s an editor at the online lit zine Literary Orphans. You can find him at http://lenkuntz.blogspot.com.

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